


He was the King

by Remma3760



Category: Versailles (TV 2015)
Genre: Episode Related, Gen, Sad Philippe. Louis being oblivious.
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-06
Updated: 2016-11-16
Packaged: 2018-08-29 10:53:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,198
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8486584
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Remma3760/pseuds/Remma3760
Summary: Philippe was unhappy. His Brother as sick and he wasn't being allowed to do anything. Then, when his Brother was well, it got worse.He told him he wasn't trusted, that the love of his life was a traitor and would be treated as such, then he just walked away.I hated that, It seemed as though Louis didn't give a damn about his Brother, and I could't accept that, so I wrote this.Also, people need to stop being mean to Philippe.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first story I have written in this fandom. it was supposed to be a one-shot, but then it turns out there was more I wanted to say, so I have had to re-structure it slightly. It will now be an alternating pov and the original story has become part two and chapter one is Philippe.  
> Sorry if I've confused everyone :)

**Philippe**

 

He watched his lover leave. Just walk out the door and leave when he knew, he _knew_ , how much Philippe needed him, especially now. He had promised. He had made a vow, but now he was gone, and Philippe was alone.

He was up to something, but then, he was always up to something. Some scheme, some plot, some furtive little game. Always an ulterior motive with his Chevalier. Yet this time was somehow different. More serious. But still. It would work itself out. It always did and then they could get back to normal. He smiled to himself, thinking that he probably should reign him in, at least a little. But. He didn't want to. He didn't want to change him. He loved him as he was, and as irksome as he could be at times, life with him was never dull.

He should have stayed. This once, he should have put aside his own concerns and he should have stayed. Because now Philippe was _alone_. His lover was gone and his Brother. No. He wouldn't think of that. He wouldn't. Louis would get better. He was the King, and Kings didn't just. He _would_ be well. Because Philippe didn't know what he would do with a world that did not contain his Brother.

If only there was something he could do. Some way he could help. They hadn't let him take Louis back to Paris. They wouldn't let him do anything. Frustrated, he slammed his fist into the wall.

Not one. Not one of them had stood up for him. He hadn't expected it from Colbert or Louvois, not even Rohan, and definitely not from the Queen. He was well aware of what _she_ thought of him, and yet how _dare_ she take him to task on his morals given what he suspected about her last child. Sinners and stones came to mind. No he knew not to expect any compassion from _that_ quarter. Bontemps and Henriette though. Oh, that had hurt. They _knew_ him _._ Bontemps had practically raised him, and Henriette had been one of his closest friends since childhood. Yet they had said nothing.

He didn't even _want_ to be Regent. He had never wanted to rule, not that anyone ever believed that. They had no right to disregard him as they had. He was _Brother to the King._ He had a _right_ to be heard. And really, did they believe they could sit around a table and determine the fate of France without his consent? Did they expect him to abide by their dictates and allow Louis' Spanish Queen to rule France? No, that could not be borne. His Chevalier had been right about one thing, the army sided with him, and if it came to it, well then. Then they would all see exactly who he was. He was Brother to the King of France, and he would _not_ be ignored.

No, if it came to it then. Oh God. He dropped to his knees. If it came to it, then Louis would be dead. His Brother would be dead. And that. No, that couldn't be. No, he didn't want to be Regent. He wanted his Brother.

What could he do? There was nothing. His Brother could die. He could die and Philippe would be lost. He _couldn't_ die. God wouldn't allow it. He was the King. 

He was the King.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Louis notices his Brother's absence at the dance

**Louis**

 

He watched them dance from his raised stage. All of them knowing the steps as he had commanded. All rejoicing that he was returned to them. They loved him. Of course they did. He was their King. He was their Sun. He was triumphant.

But wait. Where was Philippe. Where was his Brother? He should be leading the dance and yet he was nowhere to be seen. What would people think that the King's own brother was absent from a celebration of the Kings recovery from near-death?

Surely he wasn't _still_ sulking over the Chevalier's arrest for treason? That was unacceptable. He should support his King. Support his Brother. He had promised that he would, yet here he was, whining at the arrest of a traitor. He should be grateful not to be arrested by association. Not that Louis really believed that his Brother would betray him, but still; he needed to know his place. He needed to do as he was told and not oppose the will of his King.

Well, there was nothing to be done about it now, not mid-performance. He would have to wait until the party was over. But then, oh _then_. Then Louis would let Philippe know _exactly_ how much he had disappointed his King. How much he had let his Brother down.

* * *

 

He stormed to his Brother's room, flinging open the door, ready to blast him with his ire.

He wasn't there. Philippe was not in his rooms. He wasn't anywhere. Louis had expected to find him brooding by the fire, maybe even in his bed. But no. He was _nowhere_.

He was thwarted, his righteous anger denied. What was he to do? Where to look for his Brother? A disquieting thought occurred. Could he still be in the chapel? Surely not. It had been _hours_. Still.

He turned, making his way to where he had left his Brother, unease beginning to creep in. He _couldn't_ still be there, could he?

* * *

 

He was still there. Not crying any more, but it was clear he had been for a very long time. He was leaning against the altar rail, knees pulled up, arms loose and head drooping. He looked exhausted, sad and tired and so much like the child he had been that Louis' heart clenched.

For the first time, he felt uncertain. Could he have handled this differently? But no. all doubts must be suppressed. He was the _King_. He was right. There was no room for doubt. He always had to be _right_.

But; his Brother was broken.

Why? Why was he so sad. He was Philippe, Duc D'Orleans, Brother to the _King of France_. He could have any man he wanted. What was so special about this one?

Almost, he could envy his Brother. The woman didn't exist for whom he could feel such agony at the thought of her loss. Not his wife. Not even Henriette. In truth the only person he would grieve so fiercely for was Philippe. His Brother.

Something would have to be done. Philippe could not be allowed to suffer like this. Tomorrow, Tomorrow he would do something for him. He would give him attention. That always worked with Philippe. Ever since they were small all Phillippe had wanted was to be loved, to be _noticed_ by Louis, so that's what Louis would give him. He would be kind to him and then his Brother would be happy again.

Satisfied, he started back to his own rooms. His Brother would be fine. He would forget all about that traitor and move on. Philippe would be content at being in Louis favour. He would see that he needed no-one else. No-one but Louis. It had to be so. He was the King.

He was the King.


End file.
